ice cream
by ofb29
Summary: Just a little moment. W/S friendship.


This is W/S friendship piece. Meant to be just a moment between friends. Hope it makes sense!  
  
The door to the roof was at the end of a short flight of stairs, entering out straight into the centre. There were a few sun loungers scattered around, all but one empty in the twilight hours. Only the slightest hint of red working it's way up in the east gave any hint that the night would eventually end, that daylight would come.  
  
She turned from her seat on the sun lounge before he could make any move towards her, turning away, her look not as surprised as he had expected. Instead she looked drained, tired. It had been a long stressful night, it always was when the one dreaded case came up, someone you knew.  
  
'What are you doing here?' She addressed the air more than him, although their was no accusation in her tone.  
  
'Came to see how you're doing.' He answered, standing awkwardly to one side, a brown paper bag in each hand held loose by his side.  
  
'I'm good.' She said almost immediately.  
  
'Yea, I can see that.'  
  
She took another drag on the cigarette as she turned from him. 'How'd you find me?'  
  
'Your cars outside, and the TV's on in your apartment. Had a hunch you'd be up here. Why are you up here?' He added.  
  
The hand holding the cigarette waved towards the edge of the roof. 'The view.'  
  
'I thought you gave up smoking?'  
  
'I did.'  
  
'and this is.the quitting phase?'  
  
'I didn't have any ice cream. I did have these.'  
  
'Lucky I came then.'  
  
She finally looked round, as he placed a bag down on the sun lounger.  
  
'What's in the bag, Warrick?'  
  
'Ice cream.'  
  
She looked up at him, meeting his look, a single eyebrow cocked slightly. 'Ice cream?'  
  
'And I got spoons.'  
  
'You really were prepared. Say, you weren't a boy scout by any chance?' She asked as she stubbed out the cigarette.  
  
'Ha Ha.'  
  
'So, if it's ice cream in that bag, what's in the other?'  
  
'Um, that was my second choice.' He held up the second paper bag. 'Alcohol.'  
  
'Well, what are you doing standing there.' She offered him one of the spoons. 'Dig in.'  
  
He took a seat in front of her, digging into the ice cream.  
  
'Mint choc chip. My favourite. How'd you guess?' She said into the silence.  
  
'Lucky guess.' He admitted. 'Plus, it was either this, or peanut butter, and I don't like peanut butter.'  
  
'So you assumed that I'd be sharing it?'  
  
'Hell yeah.'  
  
'I can eat a quart of ice cream, you know.'  
  
'Oh, I believe it. I never underestimate the power of a woman in need of ice cream. Learnt that a long time ago.'  
  
'Oh really. Expert on females, eh?'  
  
'Well, maybe not expert. But I know my way around.'  
  
'Should have brought two, then.'  
  
'Two?'  
  
'Pots of ice cream.'  
  
'Oh. Well, next time, I'll know.'  
  
'Next time?'  
  
'You're bound to need ice cream at some point.'  
  
'Yeah, probably.' She conceded.  
  
'You know, it wasn't your fault.'  
  
'It might have not been my fault. Doesn't stop her being dead.' Sara had turned away now, looking hard out across the city.  
  
'You tried to help.'  
  
'I didn't try hard enough.'  
  
'Sara, if she wanted your help, she would have took it. You're not responsible for someone else's actions.'  
  
'Why didn't she say something? I asked. Not just then. I asked her over and over what was wrong, what was going on. She never said anything. Not once. Never even eluded to it.'  
  
'You couldn't have known anything was wrong.'  
  
'We're trained to see through people, see the evidence. All I had to do was look.'  
  
'Look for what, Sara? There was nothing to be seen, no overt signs of abuse or distress. I mean, she wasn't even depressed.'  
  
'That fire. It was a cry for help.'  
  
'Maybe. It could also have just been an accident. It was a chip pan fire- no one would have thought it was more.'  
  
'How does someone get to the point where only a hundred sleeping pills and a glass of sherry seem like a good idea? How do you get to that point and no one sees it? Not even your so called friends?'  
  
'There was mental illness. She was lonely, desperate, but she was also clinically depressed.'  
  
'I should have seen the signs. I mean, we had lunch last week. And now her stomach contents are being examined for tablets. Why didn't she ask me for help?'  
  
'I don't know, Sara. But maybe she just couldn't see that anyone could help her. If she was so depressed, maybe she just couldn't see how anything could be better anymore.'  
  
'I hate this job, sometimes.' She said to the sky.  
  
'We all hate this job sometimes.' Warrick said with a mirthful laughter.  
  
'Why do we keep doing it?'  
  
'Because the rest of the time we love it. And for every case that sucks beyond belief, we get a case where we make a difference.'  
  
'We make a difference?' Sara asked with a smirk.  
  
'Yea, sometimes.' Warrick said with a shrug. 'There's always gonna be some whack out to make trouble. The bad guys are gonna keep on coming. Someone has to be around to convict their asses. Plus, we happen to be damn fine at it.'  
  
'Why did you come over here?' Sara repeated, still not getting why he couldn't have said all this at work that night.  
  
'You lost a friend tonight. Didn't think you'd be sleeping, and I didn't think you'd want to be alone.' He answered.  
  
'Thank you for the ice cream. And, you know, company. You're right, I didn't wanna be alone.'  
  
'It's that intuition thing. Maybe I should have been a woman.' He wondered out loud, leaning back against the sun lounge, Sara leaning easily against his leg, sharing ice cream, sharing sun rise. Sharing loneliness. 


End file.
